


Taught Love: Carnage

by UselessLesbianWriter



Series: Taught Love AU [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: An OC among them, Blood and Violence, Book 2 of taught love au, Dark Past, F/F, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Insanity, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Past Violence, Read at Your Own Risk, Some Romance, There are more characters than listed above, There might be a happy ending, read to find out, this is a bumpy ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2020-10-26 19:56:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 19,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20747864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessLesbianWriter/pseuds/UselessLesbianWriter
Summary: Blake, Yang, insanity. In that order. Blake struggles with anxiety and an ever growing paranoia. Yang is divided by her very soul, who knows what she'll do at the flip of a coin. Will they ever get back? Or will this crippled duo never return to the burning wreckage that is their family, their friends, their life...?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with chapter 1 of Taught Love: Carnage! I hope to post a new chapter every month, but I can't make any promises because of school. Please ENJOY and leave a comment and kudos!

The sky was pale and just starting to turn blue as the sun rose that morning, just like every other morning. Blake liked getting up earlier than the rest of the camp, it gave her time to take a quiet morning run and make some tea before the cooks used all the pots to either make porridge or coffee. She was actually the head chef, but that mostly meant she assigned the other cooks to certain stations, told them what to make, and how to make it.

Blake touched her toes and did other various leg stretches to prepare herself.

She took off.

The brisk morning air filled her lungs as her legs and arms pumped in rhythm. Her heart rate started to increase, warming her up and relieving the cold stiffness that had settled into her joints over night. She could just feel her skin growing moist with sweat and she pushed herself faster along the next bend. The first tweets of waking birds, rustling in the bushes just outside of camp, the yawn of the bandit in the tent she just passed - all of these things reached her ears as she concentrated on the sounds around her. Her heart made itself known, pounding harder whilst she ran her fifth time around camp. Blake's legs had gotten so used to the path she always took, that she didn't really pay attention to her surroundings using her eyes. And this was a mistake as she soon found out, when she was forced to come to screeching halt as to not run into Raven, Yang's mother.

"Good morning," the raven haired woman said. "Still so tired that you couldn't pay attention to what was right in front of you?"

Blake didn't particularly like Raven. It wasn't that Raven was a horrible person, nor even the fact the she didn't like Blake. No, the reason Blake didn't like Raven was she had a way of inadvertently saying that she wasn't happy with what you just did, but she almost never outright told you unless you've really pissed her off. This caused a lot of frustration, considering she also mixed her indirect words with belittling ones. And being on Raven's 'I don't like' list meant Blake got quite a few of those belittling words. So understandably, she doesn't like Raven.

"Morning," Blake sighed, leaning on her right foot and putting her left hand on her hip. "Sorry, I got a little lost in the moment."

Raven grimaced, "I can see that. What were you thinking about, kitty cat?"

'Kitty cat' was a nickname Blake developed in her first week with the bandits. She was one of very few Faunus there, so her nickname became her defining feature; her cat ears. It bothered her when it first started, but by now she has learned that nothing she can say or do would make them stop calling her that, therefore there is no reason for her to continue to be bothered by it.

"Nothing really - I was listening to the birds."

"I see," Raven moved past. "Well, I'd pay closer attention in the future instead of having my head stuck in the clouds if I were you."

Blake stood still, listening to Raven walk away. She clenched her fists only to relax them a moment later, letting the tension and anger leave her body.

Familiar hands slid around Blake's waist from behind. "Rough morning?" Yang whispered into her ear.

"You could say that," Blake let herself relax in Yang's arms, breathing in the smell of Yang's lavender scented shampoo she bribes shopkeepers for. Blake learned long ago that treating Yang any different than before got her nowhere, except on Yang's bad side. So she let/forced herself to do simple things like melt into Yang's hugs, hold hands with her, and kiss back when kissed. And Yang actually does most of those things often, barring her bad moods.

"I'm sorry." Yang whispered, now breathing against Blake's neck. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Afraid not," Blake pulled away. "I got to get to the kitchen tent."

Yang frowned, "Porridge?"

"Until your mom approves of anything else, yes."

Blake hates it when Yang acts like she feels anything, it's all too much of a reminder that she doesn't. A reminder that everything she does is just an act.

"Fuck, I'll have to have a word with her about that."

...

Blake paced around her small tent, nervousness racking through her body. Raven sent Yang out on a solo mission to find supplies and bring them back, by any means necessary. This could mean Yang will be forced to engage in combat, which was never good for the other party... but Blake was still terrified that Yang will get into a fight with that .1 percent who could kill her.

Yang has been gone for over an hour, which was about the time she always returned from the missions Raven sends her on. So Blake's nerves are of course at an all time high because if Yang doesn't walk into Blake's tent within the next few minutes, the cat Faunus is going to go after her herself.

The tent flap shifted to the side, and Yang padded into Blake's tent. "You're pacing now?"

Blake froze, the pit in her stomach melting away at the sound of Yang's voice. She turned around and looked at the blonde, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "Yes."

Yang moved forward and wrapped Blake in her arms, "You got to stop worrying, kitty cat. I'll always come back."

It was true, Blake's fear of Yang not coming back was getting worse and her anxiety was spiking. However, Yang's un-felt attempts at comforting her only served to make it worse. And those last words spoken by Yang stabbed a particularly painful knife into Blake's heart. All the cat Faunus wanted was for Yang to come back, yet in these few months she has seen no progress. No signs of the old Yang, unless you want to count the occasional pun, warm hugs, or laughter. But none of those things are Yang. Yang is generous, passionate, loving, kind, honest. Yang is a fighter. And the woman who is hugging Blake right now, is not Yang.

Blake blinked back tears, "I hope so." She whispered, unable to stop the tear that rolled slowly down her face.


	2. Here We Go Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING, FLASHBACK(S) AND VIOLENCE!!

Blake watched as Yang tore down yet another tent in her anger, then punch the bandit the tent belonged to. Let us just say that Yang is in one of those bad moods where if anything isn't where she wants it to be, she tears it down.

This mood is more tedious because it upsets Raven than anything else. Yang rips down tent, Raven comes storming out and-

"Yang!"

They start to fight.

"What do you want?!" Yang growled, turning slowly to face her mother. Her red eyes narrowed dangerously.

"For you to stop acting like a child and grow up!" Raven spat, beginning to prowl around Yang like she was her prey.

Yang matched Raven, and the two were now circling each other while the bandits watched with tired nervousness. These battles could sometimes go on for hours, many of the tribe's tents and other equipment getting damaged over the course of them. This actually made a stronger bandit, Max, to feel confident enough to challenge Raven's authority about a week ago. He was killed within ten seconds of his fight against the fierce leader.

"Fuck you!" Yang sprung at Raven and the older-woman leaped out of the way, landing cat-like a few feet away from where Blake was standing.

"Honestly Yang! Get a grip!"

Blake felt the familiar feeling of anxiety twist itself into a knot in her gut. Whenever Yang fights with Raven, especially lately, Blake sees flashes of Junior beating the shit out of the blonde. _Punch, kick._ Raven leaped at Yang and swung her sword, Yang dodged. _Slam, punch._ Yang was on the defensive, blocking and dodging lighting like swings from Raven's fists. _Punch, punch._ A hit connected on Yang's face, Blake swore she could see sparks flying off of her aura. _Kick, strangle._ Their movements became a blur and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and metal crashing against metal resounded throughout the camp. _"You whore!"_ The knot in Blake's gut grew, larger, larger, until it felt like it was crippling her. It was making it hard to breath as she blinked back images of Junior screaming and hitting Yang. Images of her eyes first going blood red and her hair seeming to glow as the mother fought back. But the images were swarming her senses... her thoughts... Blake fell to her knees, gasping. The world around her stayed long enough so that she could see Raven pinning Yang against a table, fist raised - then Blake saw Junior electrocuting a helpless Yang. She jumped up to her feet and ran towards the scene, grabbing a hold of Junior and punching him solid in the face.

A force knocked the air out of Blake's lungs and she fell back. The bandit camp was around her - watching - and Yang was gripping Raven's arms from the front, pushing against her and keeping her away from the disoriented Faunus. Yang looked behind her at Blake. "What have you done kitty?" She said in breathless hate, her eyes the same never ending red that seemed to swallow Blake whole in her dreams.

The black-haired girl ran away to her tent, and sunk down to the floor in front of her bed, pulling her knees up to her chest and holding them there. This time was so much worse than the other times, the panic was swelling and the memories like a tsunami. All this anxiety, all this fear. It wasn't letting up. Blake felt like a ship caught in a storm, being thrashed around by the waves. Suffocating. She tried to hold back the memories, to hold back the whimpers and tears that were now dripping off her chin and cheeks; except it was all too much. Her mind drifted back to that horrible day.

**!*FLASHBACK*!**

_Junior held Yang against the wall, one large hand gripping her throat as to choke her, and the other pinning one of her hands to the wall. Yang flailed in attempts to kick Junior off of her, however Junior only pressed closer so that he was flush with her._

_"Stop your struggling, pretty one. There's really no point to continue fighting when I've already won." Junior whispered into her ear._

_Yang gasped for air, his grip on her neck tightening. "You will never win!" She said haltingly._

***END OF FLASHBACK***

Blake jerked back into the present with a sob and a punch to the dirt floor. She wonders now if Junior has won, if breaking her down was what he really wanted. If his main goal was just to make sure no one could have her, as long as he got to take something precious from her one more time.

Another flashback overtook her.

**!*FLASHBACK*!**

_"You whore!" Junior screamed after Yang bit his arm - hard._

_In the time he was off-guard, not even a second, Yang punched him square on the jaw. Junior quickly regained his senses and started fighting back, but Yang already had the upper hand. With a few more swift punches Junior was on the ground, and Yang was on top of him. She wrapped both her hands around his thick neck and leaned her weight into her tight grip, pressing down on his air pipe. He gurgled and struggled but her hold was hard and sure; she didn't budge an inch._

_"You... never... be... enough!" Junior rasped, trying to pry Yang's hands off his throat. "You... are... too... broken!" His face was turning red and blue from lack of _ _oxygen. "You... know... that... one... day... she'll... see that... too!" He was about to pass out, his eyes were bulging out of his head._

_But then she let go._

_Her hands grabbed the collar of his shirt, "you fucker!" She yelled, red eyes flashing. Yang took a deep breath, but her eyes didn't return to normal. "I hope hell is real," she began, much more calmly this time. "Just so that you can rot in it."_

_His punched her as hard as could and she fell to the side off of him, unconscious._

***END OF FLASHBACK***

Blake fell forward until her forehead was touching the ground as she cried, sobs racking through her body.

The sound of a tent flap moving softly to the side caught her attention, but she didn't look up, she just let the tears keep on flowing and the pain and fear keep on ripping apart her heart like a beowolf rips apart its dinner. A gentle hand was placed in the middle of her back, followed by the sound of Blake's bed creaking under someone's weight.

"Kitty?" A soft voice asked, Yang's soft voice asked, and Yang's very own gentle hand rubbed her back. Yang got down onto the floor and just sat there, still rubbing slow circles on Blake's back.

They sat like for some time until Blake was able to calm down; and when she did, she sat up. Yang's hand retracted back to her own lap where it laced it's fingers with her other hand. "You should have said something." The blonde said, voice quiet, soft, even - _pleading. _Blake looked over and was startled to see... red eyes, but with a beautiful lilac surrounding the pupils. "Why didn't you say anything?" Yang asked, this time a tear making its way down her face. Her tone was so, desperate. Just plain desperate. Like her life depended on Blake communicating just how bad her flashbacks and paranoia were getting.

A hard knot wound around Blake's heart and she felt her tears dry with anger. She looked away from Yang. "Forgive me for answering a question with a question...," Blake sighed quietly. "But how could I?"

When she looked back at Yang, her eyes were once again a hard, cold red. Not a speck of lilac to be seen and the remnants of her tear dried away. Yang chuckled, "no clue."


	3. Long Time, No See

Blake snuggled further into her blankets, only to wince when the black and blue bruise on her abdomen yelled at her for moving. Raven hasn't forgiven her yet for punching her and if it wasn't for Yang, Blake would probably be dead by now. The thought of the blonde made her wince again, but not out of physical pain this time. Out of fear. Ever since Yang had tried consoling Blake the day of the flashback, she has gotten more withdrawn; angrier almost. It was now terrifying to even be near her, as every facade of tenderness was also soaked in rough, harsh, forcefulness. Though Blake didn't have to worry about the red-eyed woman giving her random hugs or kisses anymore, those days were long gone.

It was terrifying, the respect she earned from the other bandits; no one hit Raven and lived except her and Yang. The Faunus could swear they were calling her "kitty cat" less often, and more by her actual name.

The leather tent flap shifted to the side and Yang strode confidently in. "Get up, the guests will be here soon. You are in charge of making lunch, even if Raven doesn't like admitting it, you are the best cook here."

The "guests" were some White Fang runaways who wanted to sell information about the White Fang in exchange for provisions and the knowledge that the bandits are their allies. From what Blake has heard, it seems as if those poor (slightly traitorous) travelers will only ever see one bandit fight and the bandits won't be fighting _for_ them.

"Do they really count as guests?"

"For now," the taller woman took the two steps to Blake's duffel bag and pulled out a red and white checkered flannel button-up and some plain beige pants. "Here," she stood up and held the outfit out. "Nice but comfortable."

Blake didn't move, Yang scoffed a little. "Just gonna leave me hanging?" Blake blinked, Yang squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose, then she peeked one eye open. Blake was still just lying there, but now she had both of her blankets bunched up into a ball of which she curled herself around. "Alright, I see how it is." Yang set the clothes on top of Blake's bag and sat on the edge of her bed.

Blake eyed her curiously, wondering if Yang had some sadistic and psychotic exercise planned, or if for the first time in a week she was about to do something incredibly sweet. The blonde said nothing, she just looked right back at the cat Faunus. This went on for some time, neither wanted to break the silence, each for different reasons. Vernal was the one who broke the spell by barging in and explaining (in a rather loud voice) that Blake should get her ass up and start making lunch. This made Yang leave as well, which quite frustratingly, left Blake in the dark about what the woman originally had planned on doing.

She got up and dressed in the outfit Yang picked out, shaking her head at how the blonde was right. Nice but comfortable.

...

Blake huffed in anger as an unruly young bastard of a sous-chef ruined perfectly good onion chutney by adding _ground beef_ to the bubbling concoction. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" She shouted, snatching the ladle he was using to mix it with from his hands. "Did I tell you to put ground beef into the onion chutney?"

"No." The boy stated defiantly. "But I saved your ass!"

"How in the world do you think ruining a key component in our lunch, saved my ass?!"

He stood up straighter and smirked, "Raven isn't a vegan, kitty cat. There's no way she'd want some chunky, sticky onion stuff, much less without something real in it!" He seemed to think he won the argument and was confident enough to grab to ladle back from Blake and turn to continue stirring. Little did he know what was coming for him.

The Faunus growled and grabbed the purple-haired boy by the ear and dragged him, yowling, outside. With a shove, he fell to the ground and stared up at Blake with wide-eyes. Blake didn't think twice as she grabbed a nearby stick and threw it at him. "Build a fire."

Whimpering, he stood up on shaky legs. "I dunno how," he whined.

"Figure. It. Out."

Realizing Blake wasn't messing around he sobbed and cried while he searched for firewood. The bandits started crowding around, watching the child's punishment. He continued to blubber, but eventually, he had enough to wood to start a fire. Having no equipment, he looked around for help. Blake threw a pocket knife at him. "What am I supposed to do with this?!" Receiving no response, he sulked. For the next five minutes, he made no move to do anything except stare blankly at the wood he gathered.

Blake could hear the bandits talking, wondering what she was going to do next. So she made a decision. Walking over, she picked up the abandoned pocket knife. She dug a hole into one of the larger pieces of wood and found a smaller stick that could fit into it. The woman took the stick between her two hands and began to roll it by moving her hands back and forth. It was a few minutes before anything happened, but then smoke started coming out and when she removed the stick, a small fire was burning. The boy looked at it in awe. Blake ignored him, instead, she went back into the cooking tent and then when she came back out, she was holding a pot full of water. Setting it next to the fire, she went back in and was soon back with about 15 diced tomatoes, some herbs, and a bowl of chopped onions. Finally, she turned to him. "Since you messed up the onion chutney, you are going to make tomato soup. Once you really have that fire going, I expect you to build something that the pot can sit on top of, then do what I taught you in regards to making the soup, got that?" He nodded sullenly. "Good. It needs to be done by lunch. If you have any questions, come to me. But they better be _really_ good questions."

And so she went back inside the tent, leaving the boy to wonder what will happen if it isn't done in time.

...

A quick survey of the incoming runaways told Blake there was about a hundred of them, not a too terribly large a group, but enough that Raven could consider them worthy allies. Of course, their fighting skills will have to be very good at least. She was able to breathe a sigh of relief though, enough food was prepared for the lot of them and the bandits all together. It was going to be quite the feast, tomato soup (hopefully, Blake hasn't checked back up on the kid yet), beef stew, fresh bread, baked potatoes, and grilled cheese sandwiches.

She walked back to the spot where she left him and found, not a small boy with purple hair and a bad attitude, but Yang Xiao Long, stirring the large pot's contents. "What the fuck are you doing?" She whispered, the urge to yell no stronger than her pure exhaustion at even more things going astray from her pre-planning.

"Cooking," Yang replied simply. "What are you doing?"

"Don't get coy with me," Blake snapped. "Why in the world is that petulant boy not pouring sweat and slaving over that soup right now?!"

"He was doing it all wrong."

"He- he was- fuck you." And with that, the angry Faunus walked away to go cry in frustration under some over-grown tree.

...

The looks of awe at their surroundings made Blake sick to her stomach; if only these people knew what was going to happen to them within these walls. If only she could warn them... She could warn them, actually. But she wasn't going to, not yet at least.

The latest letter from Ruby had her sick too, talk of where to propose to Weiss and questions about when Yang will be back and how she is. Even more stuff about Adrian, how closed off he is becoming. How he refuses to talk with anyone but Ilia and how he draws during class now and his grades are slipping. More talk about getting him into counseling, though he threatens to not go. He's seven now, a scary age. He was five when Blake met him, can you believe it's been two years? And about six months since Yang ran and Blake followed. She can't lie, not to herself. She wants to go home, every second here feels like another dagger diving deep into her heart. Every moment with Yang-not-Yang another fang sinking into her flesh. Every panic attack another weight that sends her ten thousand more feet underwater where she drowns endlessly. The paranoia, the fear. The sleepless nights. The rage.

She wants a cup of tea. She wants a _hug_. She wants her _mom_, her _dad_. She wants to forget about all of this. She wants to sleep and not dream of Junior beating Yang to death over _and over_ again.

But in the spirit of not lying to herself, Blake knows she won't leave. Not unless Yang is coming with her. If you can trust self-diagnosing, Blake has PTSD and that PTSD is causing her to think Yang is hurt, dead, injured, etcetera because of flashbacks. When Blake is with Yang, she can verify that the blonde is in fact, still alive. Apart from her, however, Blake can have no such reassurance. And so she stays. So she will always stay; whether that is healthy, life-threatening, or whatever else it may be.

...

When all else fails, try to ignore the churning in your gut. The awkward silence was horrifying. Apparently, Sienna Khan was amongst the runaways. And she and Raven go, well, "far back" doesn't seem to cut it. Let's just say Blake is getting the distinct feeling that they have eaten each other out at one point or another but done so while simultaneously stabbing each other in the back. And there was certainly no romance, just a hot night and some emotions running high. The number of times they have looked at each other in the eye and stuck a spoon-full of stew in their mouths is ridiculous. Not to mention the untrusting glances at boobs and even more untrusting glares at hands. One gets them into bed, the other one fucks them over. Guess which is which, I dare you.

Blake is guessing that this new discovery will turn the tables a bit, maybe even drastically. Her only fear is what these changes will mean. They have enough rations for the bandits already in the camp, no more. The raiding parties have gone out and come back empty-handed too many times for comfort. Yes, the White Fang deserters must have some kind of food with them, but that isn't going to do much good if they become part of the tribe.

Another cause for the churning in Blake's gut is Carmen.

...

Dinner is over and while the bandits and the traitors are cleaning up, Blake and Carmen are arguing in her tent; with Yang as the moderator.

"Why the hell would Ruby send you?! And why the hell would you listen to her?"

"You know why, Blake. And don't act like you don't!"

"But joining the White Fang, all just to find me?" Blake yelled, exasperated.

"Yes! Adrian..." Carmen trailed off with a glance at Yang.

"Oh, don't you mind me," she smiled. "I'm just here to make sure you two don't kill each other."

This made Carmen uneasy and it showed plainly on her face. Blake sat down on her bed and ran her hands through her hair, "you need to leave. You're not safe here." Yang moved towards Blake and Carmen 'bout shoved her away but one look at the raven-haired woman's face, and she knew that stopping Yang would do more harm than good. Yang stood in front of Blake, then squatted down. "Breathe." Was all she said and somehow, Carmen knew - Blake _needed_ that. But Yang's next words were not ones Blake needed, at all. "He's not here, kitty. He can't kill her for wanting to bring me back."

It was like a shock went through the Faunus and she froze, her cat ears pressed flat against her head. "I-i know that."

"No, you don't. Not really." Yang laughed and left the tent, the sounds of her sadistic mirth echoing through the camp.

"She needs help," Carmen reminded, sliding down onto the floor next to Blake's bed.

"I know," Blake whimpered through tears. "But I don't know how to help her!"


	4. Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: FLASHBACKS!!

The White Fang, _the_ White Fang. They don't just let anybody in... and the people are paranoid enough that the traitors also wouldn't just let anyone into their midst. And how would Ruby even know where Blake was? She hasn't told her. Nothing about this makes sense now that Blake has had time to think about it. In fact, nothing at all was making sense. Blake couldn't think, her heart was pounding, her mind was scrambled, her palms were sweating, she was shaking. She couldn't pace she was shaking so bad and she was gasping for breath. Blake was panicking, sure and simple. She had to confront Carmen, but what will happen? How will she react? The stress of the situation is driving her mad and a flashback is slowly trying to take over her brain.

She fought against it as she lay curled up in her bed, trying to repress the memories and the trauma. She took deep breaths, scratched soothing, red streaks down her arms. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and began to recite nursery rhymes her mother taught her as a small child. It didn't help, it seemed to at first, but then that facade faded away and all that was left was the reality of the situation; Blake is a trauma victim and she is having a stress-induced panic attack along with panic related flashbacks.

She stopped fighting.

...

(Yang)

Blake had the right idea by starting the habit of running, it has the right mixture of exertion to calming monotony. Not to mention Yang enjoyed the look on the new bandits faces when she ran past in a crop top and short shorts, glistening from head-to-toe. Honestly, who couldn't gain enjoyment from seeing both men and women and others drool over you every time they catch a glimpse of you. Now, if they tried touching her... they`d never see anything ever again. It's just the thought that counts.

About her fifth time around, a scream rang through the camp. It was loud, piercing, terrified; it was Blake. In a flash Yang changed course and doubled her speed to Blake's tent. Carmen just barely beat her there, _her_ tent was only a few yards away. They barreled in at the same time and found Blake thrashing on her bed, tears pouring from her wide eyes and strangled sobs escaping her open mouth. Working together, they removed the sheets that were tangled around the girl's legs and threw them to the side; next, Carmen ran to get a rag and a bucket of cold water while Yang put forth quite a bit of effort to make sure Blake's flailing limbs don't scratch her own face of any other part of her body. With Blake effectively restrained in Yang's arms, Carmen placed the rag into the bucket then removed it and rung it out, leaving it damp. She folded it and placed it on the Faunus's forehead. They remained like this, Blake struggling in Yang's arms and Carmen holding the rag against her head in between switching it out.

It was hours before the woman calmed down and came back to reality. "How long?" She asked hoarsely, not even bothering to leave the blonde's embrace.

"Four hours," Carmen stated. This seemed to make Blake even more tired and she turned her head into Yang's shoulder and closed her eyes. Yang responded by stroking her sweat soaked hair, pulling her closer. All of the sudden, Blake shot up and shoved Carmen (who was sitting on the bed next to them) onto the floor.

"How did you know where I was?! And how did you get the runaways to trust you? How did you join so quickly?! And don't give me any bullshit lies!"

Carmen stood up and dusted off her clothes, "Ilia didn't want you know, but, I think you deserve to. We have been a part of the White Fang for years now, helping in the ways we can without getting sucked in. Except, about a year ago, three drunken men cornered me on the street because of my antlers and began to beat the shit out of me. Luckily, the were some people near by who helped me fight them off, but I still had to go to the hospital. Ever since then Ilia has become more involved with the White Fang and frequently urged me to do the same. This came in handy when Ruby voiced concerns about you, saying that your letters are getting shorter and that you sound exhausted in them. She wanted us to help find out where you are using our connections. And we did. Several members saw you with bandits back in town. So I put together a group to find a bandit, have them tell Raven we are runaways with information, and find you and Yang when we get here."

"Diabolical," Yang laughed, "so damn diabolical." Her smile was actually genuine - for a second. "Blake's right, you're not safe here. Run." Yang stood and pointed at the exit, "go ahead, run. I'm giving you a chance here, don't make me change my mind about that."

"Yang, don't." Blake pleaded, "just leave her alone."

"Why should I?"

"_Please_."

"Blake, I just want one good reason. Give me one, and I'll leave her alone."

Blake's ears flattened against her head and she looked away. "Because... I can't handle more fighting, not right now."

There's a fire in her veins, one that aches for blood spilt and blood curdling screams. The monster is roaring, angry and in a fit of rage. The void doesn't give a fuck and yet even it is whispering in her ear to rip Carmen to pieces right then and there. Why should Yang care what Blake wants, what she needs? She decided to come, this is _her_ fault. A memory came out of nowhere, a small one of Blake smiling. It was so short but it felt so happy and blissful. A part, a shard of Yang's soul that loved Blake, that was also her humanity; begs for Yang to listen to the Faunus. It is barely living and yet it holds on with everything it has, kicking weakly and shaking the bars of its cage. There was a feeling like her heart breaking, but smaller. Like a dull longing that isn't fulfilled. _Adrian_, her mind reminded her, Carmen wants to take you back to _Adrian_. Then the monster ripped that lovely name to bits and began to make a wreck of the blonde's composure. 'Kill her!' It roared louder than ever before, 'just kill her! Do it!'

Stock still, frozen, doing nothing; worthless. Oh, the joys of being split by your very soul, and your very soul being split.

"Yang?" Blake fretted, grabbing her hand. "Are you okay?"

Motionless, futile, powerless; feeble. Unable to pick the most obvious, and most satisfying, option. Useless doesn't quite cut it.

"Yang? Yang?! Look at me, Yang!"

***FLASHBACK***

_"You fucking, stupid, useless bitch! What the fuck were you doing all day that you couldn't even have dinner done by the time I got back?! I don't know what I saw in you when we first met, you're such a slut. You just wanted me for my dick! You stupid piece of shit!" Junior shouted into her face, hand clasped around her throat, choking her._

_"Please," she cried with what little air she was able to gain. "I'm sorry!"_

_He punched her in the gut and spat in her face, releasing her neck from his grip. "Fucking get it done, but don't make any for yourself. You're going without dinner tonight."_

_In between sobs, Yang pulled out some bread, cheese, and butter to make him a grilled cheese. She knew she would get beaten later if her stomach growled or even worse, forced to eat rotten fruit or vegetables. So she gagged herself with a butter knife and prayed the nausea that ensued would remain for the rest of the night. It didn't always work, but it was the only way she knew how to purge any thoughts of food and therefore any want for food._

_Once the sandwich was done, she brought it to him along with some potato chips. She sat there while he ate, trying to hold on to the nausea, trying to not smell or see the food._

_Her stomach growled._

_..._

_She counted how many ribs he broke in the morning, it only got easier to tell the more he broke her ribs. They weren't quite healed yet, there were five of them this time._

***END OF FLASHBACK***

"I haven't had one of those in a while."

...

(Blake)

"I haven't had one of those in a while." Yang said before fainting and Blake caught her, placing her on the bed.

"What is she talking about?" Carmen asked, helping Blake cover the blonde with a blanket.

"She means a flashback, like what I was having."

"How could you tell?'

"The look in her eyes," Blake avoided the deer Faunus's gaze, instead she focused on checking Yang's temperature. She felt a bit hot so Blake made sure the blanket wasn't covering her feet, another part of the body a lot of body heat escapes from. "It was a look of distant... pain. Like she was seeing something that was breaking her heart all over again. Like an old wound being opened again."

Carmen grabbed Blake's hand and tilted up her chin so she was looking at her. "Do you think she was thinking about that day?"

Blake pulled away and took a few steps back. "No, I think she was reliving her time with Junior. She hasn't even dealt with what he did that day, hasn't thought about it other than when she had to talk about it."

"Like in court."

"Exactly," Blake stared at the blonde, wishing beyond all that is possible that she'll get back the love of her life. "I wish I knew what is wrong, why she is hurting so much." She whispered, looking away. "Sometimes, I feel like her very soul is fractured."


	5. Don't Look Into Her Red Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!! In chapter warning are placed so you can avoid triggering parts.

Blake frowned as she watched Yang eat her breakfast, a fried egg and some buttered toast. The blonde has said basically nothing at all since she woke up. Carmen and the others were told to leave the camp, any notion of attacking them put to the side for the moment while Raven tried to figure what the fuck to do about Yang. Everyone knew Vernal was of the opinion that Raven should kick Yang and Blake out. Blake hoped that Raven wouldn't, if for no other reason than for the fact that she has no clue what that will do to Yang.

Yang stood and left the table without so much as a thanks; not meeting the woman's gaze. Blake followed behind, not really caring about being discreet.

"Belladonna!" Raven shouted after her and Blake stopped in her tracks to look at the tribe leader. "Yes?" She asked nervously.

"My tent, now!"

Feeling cornered, Blake did as bid and went to Raven's tent. Upon arrival she saw Sienna lounging on the leader's bed and Vernal giving the tiger Faunus a dirty look. Raven acted as if she noticed none of this and instead focused her attention on Blake. "I want to know what exactly is going on with Yang, and I want to know now."

"I can't answer that," Blake replied simply. "I have no clue."

"With as much time you've spent with her I find that hard to believe," Sienna declared, not bothering to sit up.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, but as far as I or anyone else can tell, all of this is a result of sever PTSD." Blake stated quite calmly, burying her nerves deep in her mind.

"Vernal," Raven turned to her companion. "What do you think?"

The girl sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, "I've - seen things like that before. In underground organizations, though I don't think it turned out the way it was supposed to."

Blake could feel the tension creeping into her muscles and overall posture, she tried to make a mental note to relax and after a few deep breaths she managed to at least un-clench her fists. "What do you think he did to her that you've seen before?'

***WARNING, TALK OF TORTURE***

Vernal turned to Raven and the woman nodded. She continued, "it's called the Bridge. It depletes your aura to the point where it reaches your soul... and keeps on going. Some forms are more effective than others, modified electricity has been used more recently because it creates this almost scattering effect, so that you don't only break their soul, but also lock parts of it up inside their mind's subconscious. It's known for bringing out the worst in the person and making their semblance constantly active and on overdrive. Though most of the time, they become slaves to the person who did the procedure on them. They lose any want to fight back. I'm going to guess whoever it was who did it to Yang didn't take something into account, a part of her personality. There's an art to it and you have to consider everything."

It was all making sense, too much sense. Yang's red eyes, her anger. The lack of emotion or humanity. Blake herself had said that Yang's soul seemed fractured, but how could she have ever guessed how close to home she really hit? This was crazy and terrifying; and he was going to pay. "That _bastard_!" She roared, slamming her fist down on the nearby coffee table. Blake couldn't even fathom the rage boiling in her, it was hot and unforgiving. Consequences be damned.

Sienna had actually sat up in interest while Vernal talked and now she eagerly prompted the girl for more information. "Do you have anymore specifics on how it works? And is it permanent?"

Receiving another nod, Vernal replied. "It usually isn't reversible, but since Yang wasn't broken down in the same way the others were, I wouldn't lose all hope. But, no. I don't know anything more about how it works, I never did it to anyone myself."

"You can go now," Raven directed at Blake. The black-haired woman really didn't want to, but once again she obeyed. Once outside of the tent, Blake felt a strong need to run. And so she did. She ran and ran and ran and ran, never stopping or slowing down, she just kept going. She ran right out the gate and proceeded to go farther into the woods with every step she took. It felt good usually, the rush of the wind against her face and the pumping of her legs, but now the wind seemed harsh and the pumping of her legs tiresome rather than comforting. Though she felt the need to go faster and that is what she did. Faster and faster she pushed herself, ignoring the branches slashing at her face. Her foot hit a rock and she came stumbling to the ground. She fell awkwardly, landing on her arm and rolling a few feet before coming to a slow stop. Blake sat up with a groan and took a look at her surroundings. She was sitting under a tree and there were more trees on all sides. That was all the woman's muddled brain could ascertain and right now she didn't need it to do more than that.

She pulled out a small notebook from her back pocket and then the stub of a pencil she uses out of her jacket pocket. Blake had no preconception of what the hell she was about to write, but the feeling in her heart was unbearable and she had to get it out on paper. Not only to cope, but to process.

***WARNING, THE FOLLOWING WORDS MAY BE TRIGGERING***

_"Oh, how your red eyes shine_

_How they look into mine_

_Oh, how your red eyes pierce_

_Again and _ _again_

_'Don't look into her red eyes' they say_

_'For they bring only desperation and rage'_

_But those eyes used to be lilac_

_My new favorite color_

_Those eyes used to hold so much love_

_A love for me_

_A love I returned to her with all my heart_

_'Don't look into her red eyes' they sing_

_'For they hold only vengeance in their depths'_

_But those eyes used to be beautiful_

_And in a different way than this scary beauty_

_They were stunning in a gentle fashion_

_And gorgeous in an understanding _ _caress_

_'Don't look into her red eyes' they taunt_

_'For they conspire to break you apart'_

_Don't you understand_

_They already have_

_So how can it do more harm_

_To gaze for a minute longer_

_At the once lilac_

_Now blood red_

_Eyes of my love"_

The pencil fell out of her limp hand and landed softly on the forest floor. A feeling like waves of emotion lightly and oh-so carefully lapping at her overcame Blake and she began to cry. It was hot and messy, but almost peaceful, like releasing a pressure she hadn't known had been there. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take; and that, in of itself, was petrifying.


	6. A Note

When Blake stumbled back into camp it was dark and quiet, everyone but the bandits on the night shift was asleep. She padded to her tent and splashed some water on her face from the water basin in the corner. She tore off her clothes and dumped them on the ground. Once she was in bed she curled up in on herself and was just about to nod off when she heard a crinkling. Turning to her head to look about the room she heard it again, after a few more times she realized that something was under her head. After further investigation she found that it was a piece of paper, folded in half with her name written in a neat scribble on the top. She opened it.

_"Blake,"_ it began, _"I know I've let you down... over and over; and I'm sorry for that. Honest to God, I'm trying. So hard. But nothing is enough. I don't even know why I'm writing this, or why I've succeeded long enough to write this, but I am going to make the opportunity worth while. These past six months have been hard on you, far too hard. I want to ease your burden and your mind, but I can't. Not yet. I have one more thing to lay at your feet: take care of Adrian. You are the best thing that has ever happened to him, been the best mother... far above even me. I am truly worthless, **useless**, I do not deserve all you've done for me. I do not deserve my sister. I do not deserve my father. My uncle... or my child. Hell, I don't even deserve my mother's charity. I shouldn't even be allowed a mercy such as death. When you read this, as you may have already assumed, I'll be long gone. I am giving you no chance to join me this time, I refuse to let you hurt yourself more over trying to save me. I'm not getting better. And this version of me...? The one that sees what is going on; it is dying. Soon all that will be left are the monster and the void. I'll be truly unfixable when that happens. So go, free yourself._

_Love,_

_Yang"_

Blake sat stunned, nothing ever could have prepared her for the pure shock her mind was going through right now. Why? Why, why, why, why, why?! What the fuck is Yang thinking, what is happening?! And why is it all happening so _fast_? Blake isn't sure whether she is about to have another panic attack or a heart attack. This was all too fast, just too fast! Her mind is not capable of processing PTSD, the Bridge, and Yang leaving all at the same motherfucking time. It's. Not. Possible.

"Fuck! Fuck, fuck, _fuck_! Why the holy hell is this happening?!" Blake roared, throwing the letter down and leaping up in fury. "Why, universe, why?!" She stormed out of her tent and completely ignored the angry bandits her tirade woke up. "You couldn't give me a damn break for once?!" She snatched a supply bag off the ground, not even bothering to look inside it. "Well, fuck you!" She punched someone, she wasn't really paying attention as to who, out of her way. She grabbed some food off of a table and continued on through the camp, taking what she wanted and absolutely giving zero fucks. "You really wanna make me miserable? Well, good fucking job! I am miserable! Hope you're happy!" Now she was outside of the camp, not answering the people calling her from back inside.

She hopped onto the nearest motorcycle and was off.

Who gives a shit anymore? Blake was going to ride until she wanted to stop and she was going to stop wherever she wanted. Blake was going to take back her life and if she ever saw Yang again, she was going to kill her. No mercy.

Did she still love Yang? Yes, yes she did. But right now, that didn't matter. Yang left, twice. The first time she was able to find her, to catch back up to her with the hope of helping her, but now? Now Blake couldn't muster up any faith in the cause. Blake couldn't care less about what happened to Yang while the wind whipped in her hair and the road stretched out before her. Honestly, who gives a shit anymore.

...

Blake is mad at herself, very mad. All it takes is one guy to mention the Bridge and she is back on the saving Yang band-wagon; at least this time, she has a lead.


	7. Here At The Club

Blake didn't mind the attention, what she minded were the stupid questions; "what's a pretty lady like you doing here?" "Can I buy you a drink?" "Did you sit on sugar?" It were those dumb, utterly horny questions that made her blood boil. If they honestly thought a "pretty lady" shouldn't be in a place like this, they should forbid people who fit that description from entering - and yet they do not. Maybe it's for the man's benefit that the ego allows such things. The erection comes before one's own pride in a man's world; however, if that erection is denied, those dumb questions turn hostile and flick off silver tongues and cut with an edge of steel. This has happened many a time whilst Blake stayed at this atrocious place, but what can be done? She leave, ignore the lead and opportunity that so blatantly showed itself? She thinks not, and she will not.

Her current residence is called 'The Madman Inn', it supposedly has the best room service in the kingdom. Blake wouldn't know, she doesn't really care either. All she cares about is the high gang activity and the possibility of there being a hidden club where the Bridge is used on occasion. She needed to fit in, she needed to look like she knew everything about this place and was perfectly comfortable being there; and so she socialized. By becoming familiar with the locals she gained knowledge and friends, allowing her to both come close to knowing everything about the place and feel perfectly comfortable being right where she was.

Her growing popularity hasn't gone unnoticed, earning her an invitation of sorts to dine with the big man himself. She contemplated the idea that it was a trap but then discarded the idea, it was a mere scouting mission. He wanted to see his newest member in person to determine if she was a threat. It's almost flattering, almost. Blake is not in the right mindset to take any joy or pleasure from this, no sense of achievement at how far she has come. No, the moment she will feel content and achieved is the day someone besides her goes out into the world to find Yang Xiao Long and administer the cure for the Bridge that Blake herself is now working to procure. And the day Yang comes back, healed? Blake will take one day at a time, the future is never set and always in flux, so why consider it? Only moments before it happens does it ever cement and become unchangeable. Maybe Blake will never create or discover a cure, that will be that. Just as if she does and Yang comes back, it will simply be - that. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course there's still the possibility she will become more ambivalent and therefore more emotional about whatever is to come to pass; anything can happen, and if that does then, well, either she'll kill Yang when she gets back or welcome her home with open arms.

The problem of what to wear to this dinner was a bit bigger than normally would've been expected. She had no nice clothes to wear and too little money to squander on mere appearances. But there is still wisdom in looking nice, if only to show respect. In her time there Blake has come to know a true criminal, Cinder Fall. A fashionable personnel if nothing else, thank the gods she wears suits on occasion; not that Blake dislikes dresses, but if this night goes badly - let's just say high heels and a sequined v-neck dress are not what she wants to be in.

She left her room and locked the door behind her, turning to look both ways down the hall. No one was around. Blake contemplated which direction she should take, left will take her to the bar and lounge area and right will take her in the direction of Cinder's room. It's not to early to be drinking but it is well-known Cinder enjoys a good book, and because it hasn't gotten dark yet - she went to the right.

The plush carpet gave way to each step she took and the intricate red design on the wall drew her gaze. The lighting was dim and almost... Intimate. She came upon Cinder's room and knocked with her knuckles. The sound resounded in the quiet hallway, leaving a hint of sadness in its wake. Blake doesn't know why she feels so sad at the simple echo of a knock, maybe it is the emptiness or the irony of such a small act being so loud when Blake's actions seem to make no difference at all when she needs them to.

Cinder opened the door, reading glasses still on. "Yes?"

"Sorry to bother you, but I need an outfit for tonight."

"Oooh, meeting a special someone?" Cinder stepped to the side and gestured for Blame to come in.

"You could say that."

...

Blake admired her put-together appearance consisting of a silk button-up with the top three buttons undone, a black bra, a more professional version of grey and black striped pattern harem pants, and plain black flats. The outfit fits its roguish surroundings while still retaining its style and being semi-professional.

"Thank you, Cinder. I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it, it is my pleasure to make a beautiful young lady like you stunning. I'll be expecting a full report on how the night turned out."

Blake smiled, "of course." Cinder was sitting quite relaxedly, watching the Faunus with an appraising gaze. Blake had half the mind to stay and learn a bit more about the older woman, or offer her over to Blake's room and pour them both a drink. But alas, it's not meant to be. It is only half an hour until she has to go to his private dining room and she still has to do her makeup. "I should probably go, I need to finish getting ready."

Cinder sat up then, very deliberately, she stood and moved so she and Blake were only about half a foot away. "I'll do your makeup."

"Are you sure?" Blake didn't even question how she knew what she was meaning, knowing all too well by now how observant the woman is. Generosity is one thing, going the extra mile is another.

"Yes, I've wanted to do it since we met and I just got this purple eye shadow in that will go gorgeously with your eyes and skin tone." Her reddish amber eyes scanned Blake's face for a reaction.

"It would be amazing, if you don't mind." Blake chuckled nervously.

"Not at all, please, take a seat on the sofa; I'll grab the stuff."

She did as bid, sitting back on the black velvet sofa and taking a calming breath in. Cinder's room was as stylish as its occupant; a mixture of modern art and rustic wooden walls and floors. There was a balcony and a window seat, both in plain view from where she was sitting, the window seat had a book sitting on it and Blake caught sight of Cinder's reading glasses sitting on a mahogany side table. Another table had crystal decanters filled with what Bake assumed was alcohol, there were two red crystal tumblers sitting next to the decanters. As Blake continued to scan the room, Cinder reentered. "Ready?" She asked, sitting next to Blake.

"Yes, and thank you again."

"Please, don't mention it. The pleasure is all mine." As she set to work, Blake stared off into outer space, thinking about the night she was about to have and about all the information she has gathered so far. The comment that got her attention in the first place was made by a man sitting at the bar, talking to his companion. "Wow, the Bridge really did a number on that kid. Almost makes me feel sorry for him. Not enough to make me not want to use it on that little friend of ours, imagine if we could get that bitch to serve us? Yeah, I can't wait to get my hands on that Bridge." Those are the words that made Blake reconsider her path and instead decide to try to help Yang another way.

"You okay?" Cinder asked, leaning in a bit closer and placing a hand on Blake's leg.

"Yeah, why?"

"You looked angry, did I do something?"

"No, s-sorry, I was just thinking about something."

"Oh, might I ask what you were thinking about?"

Blake ran a shaky hand through her hair. "The reason why I am still here and not on my way home by now."

"I see, let me guess, an ex?"

Blake laughed bitterly, "that, but a thousand times more complicated."

Cinder was silent for a moment, "a kid?"

Blake's eats flicked in shock. "I mean, that's not all of it, but - how did you guess?"

"What's more complicated than a kid?" She resumed doing Blake's makeup with a satisfied smirk planted firmly across her lips. "Besides," she continued, "the letters on your desk speak of an Adrian. They also spoke of how you needed to come home as soon as possible and help him recover. All of this combined with you have a complicated relationship with your ex practically screams kid."

Blake was too speechless to be angry at Cinder for looking through her stuff, how did she even find the time to read them? She tried opening her mouth to ask just this but Cinder shushed her and told her to stay still.

Another few minutes and Cinder declared her to be done. "Go, look in the mirror."

Blake stared at her reflection in awe. "This is amazing!" She gasped, turning her head to each side to see Cinder's work from all angles. A spectrum of purple delicately surrounds her eyes, mascara causes her eyelashes to look much fuller, well-chosen powder and blush give her cheeks color, meanwhile, deep, dark red lipstick draws the eye.

"Given more time I could have done much better than that." Cinder said modestly, lounging once more on her sofa. "I would go now though, you only have fifteen minutes to go to the dining room and be escorted in. Trust me, you want to be waiting for him when he arrives."

Blake didn't tell Cinder that she was going to go see him, but that was a mystery for later. She said her thanks one last time and left the room speedily. Making her way to the dining area, she pulled out her scroll. She was supposed to be there at seven and the clock on her scroll said six-fifty. She walked through the lobby and turned to go down a hallway with a sign next to it that said 'Private dining hall' in big, black cursive. A minute or two later she came upon two men who stopped her. "Are you Blake Belladonna?" One of them asked.

"Yes."

"Follow us." they led her further down the hall, passing door after door. Finally, they arrived at the end of the hall where it opened up into a cavernous room. There was one table in the very middle of it, a path of candles leading her there. "Wait until the boss gets here."

Just moments later a man walked up to them. "Let's get this party started." He said as he moved past and the two men nodded at her to follow him.

They both sat down and he eyed her with curiosity. "My name is Mercury Black, it is a pleasure to finally meet you."


	8. Dinner and Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: THOUGHTS OF SUICIDE, EXCESSIVE DRINKING, GETTING DRUNK, VOMITING

"It's nice to meet you as well, your establishment is very accommodating."

"Accommodating?" He questioned, taking a sip of wine.

"Yes," she paused to gather her thoughts. "I had just come from somewhere that was less than, and so it was quite pleasing to be in a place where generosity wasn't foreign."

He leaned back and studied her face, "nice makeup. Did Cinder do that?"

Blake smiled to hide her surprise "Why, yes, she did. How did you guess?"

"Cinder is a bit famous for her expertise in such things, used to help celebrities pick out outfits and sometimes makeup was part of the package. She only does the makeup of those she likes, however. It's even higher praise that she used that purple eye shadow on you." He signaled a waiter over and told him to bring a bottle of champagne, he drained his glass and met Blake's gaze again.

"What is so significant about the eye shadow?"

"It's Cinder's little message to me, it means she trusts you."

"Excuse me?" The waiter came back with the champagne and two glasses, placing a glass in front of each of them, he opened the bottle and filled them to the brim.

"Cinder has been spying on you since the day you arrived, you see, we don't particularly trust strangers. She hasn't seen anything suspicious so far and so, there was never any reason to take action against you. She has only reported reasons to welcome you into our ranks, which is more praise coming from her."

"And what would those reasons be?" The food was placed before them, roast pheasant and a medley of steamed vegetables.

"For one, it was your responsibility to bring someone home, Yang Xiao Long - and judging by the unfinished letter on your desk that says this Yang is too 'far gone' and 'ran away', you have failed."

Blake gritted her teeth, "why would that make you trust me?"

He took a bite of pheasant and chewing slowly, held eye contact with the cat faunus. Once he swallowed, he sipped on his champagne before speaking. "It was more the dates on the many letters and how long it took you to give up. You're dedicated, not to mention it seems that so far you have no intention of going back just yet. And your here, at my club, trying to get into our ranks. Can I assume that your friend had a little run-in with the Bridge, and now you are here to figure out how it works and devise a plan to help this Yang? If I can, that would mean you are observant, and smart. Good at undercover operations - asides from the obvious letters and other sources of information just lying around your room. Oh, you're also honest; if that unfinished letter is truly anything to go by."

Blake sat stunned before laughing, running fingers through her hair and shaking in mirth. As her laughter died down she called over one of the waitresses, "whiskey please, the whole bottle." She waited until it was brought over with a glass, which she handed back to her with a smirk. "I won't be needing that." In a few seconds the lid was twisted off and she was drinking straight out of the bottle. With another chuckle, she set the whiskey down onto the table and cleared her throat. "First off, fuck you. Second, fuck Cinder. Third, fuck Yang Xiao Long. And lastly, you're correct; go to hell."

Mercury laughed and smiled, "you're feisty, I like that. What do you say to joining my humble gang? It would be a small price to pay in exchange for the information you need so desperately."

Blake returned the smile and shrugged. "I don't know anything about you and yet you seem to know everything about me. I would be a fool to accept an offer from someone I know nothing about."

"Anything you want to know in particular?"

"How about how you became leader?"

"Good question, the answer is simple; I used the Bridge on the former leader."

"So you were able to just take over? Did nobody fight you?"

He smiled, "the people here are only as loyal as the amount of food in their stomachs and money in their pockets. The former leader had been having trouble providing these things so when I came in and defeated him, it was only logical to wait and see if I would be better. I am, hence the head still on my shoulders and the heart still in my chest."

"Interesting," she mused, spearing a bit of pheasant. "And that satisfies you?"

"What do you mean?"

Blake took her time, finishing off her meat and taking a few more swigs of whiskey. She wiped her mouth on a black and white checkered cloth napkin, leaning back in her seat and sighing, a smirk slowly teasing the corners of her lips to twitch upwards. Mercury watched patiently, in no hurry to get his answer. They had as long as they wanted and if she wanted to draw this out, he was perfectly okay with that. "Loyalty, by definition, isn't fickle. Not if it is true loyalty, at least; if it is then it is strong, almost unbreakable unless a personal line is crossed. So instead of receiving loyalty you are actually receiving compliance, a dangerous thing. Any one of your people could be loyal to someone else and you would be none the wiser because they are compliant."

He nodded, grabbing the champagne and pouring himself another glass. They were both silent, watching each other with curiosity and wariness. It's like the monster under the bed, you fear it's presence, and yet you have no proof of its existence; this is what each of them were feeling.

"How about we prove ourselves to each other?" The leader asked, leaning forward, a glint in his eye.

"Anything in mind?"

"I have a few things, but how about we meet tomorrow for lunch and discuss it then? I know you might need time to think over what you would have me do."

"Deal."

"Okay then," he chuckled. "Feel free to tell Cinder any and everything that happened, she might kill you if you don't."

Blake chuckled softly and stood, holding her hand out to him. "I will."

He shook it and stood as well. Blake walked away, striding confidently out the door and through the hallway, retracing her steps back to Cinder's room. She stood outside for a moment before knocking lightly. She didn't actually expect Cinder to answer, it was late enough she could easily be socializing at the bar. However, she did answer and Blake almost forgot to greet the older woman out of shock. "May I come in?'

"Of course, tell me everything."

Blake did, told her every last detail she could remember; including her regret over not taking the whiskey bottle with her. Cinder laughed and dragged her down to the bar, buying a bottle of tequila which they shared, handing it back and forth. Blake wasn't drunk enough to forget Yang or to miss Cinder's prying questions which were really starting to get annoying, so she drank more, guzzling and chugging bottle after bottle. The burn wore off long before she finally stopped, stumbling out of the bar and the intoxicating smell of Cinder's perfume. Staggering to her room and running into the bathroom, she threw up everything she ate earlier that night and the atrocious amount of alcohol she consumed. The tears weren't caused by the burning of the acid in her throat but instead were brought forth by a wave of memory, Yang's own perfume, her gorgeous blonde hair. Adrian, oh dear Adrian. The little ram faunus she had come to think of as her son, his happiness and urge to make everyone else happy. They were supposed to be a family, unbreakable and held together by their love for each other. Blake kept sobbing, rinsing out her mouth from the vomit and dragging herself into the living room. She teetered slightly as she made her way to the refrigerator in the kitchenette, opening it up and grabbing a bottle of beer, popping the lid off with a nearby opener. She gulped some of it down then slammed it harshly onto the counter top, everything was blurry and swaying and she fell onto her bed, rolling so that she was on her back. "I should just die," she whispered into the blackness. "That's what Yang would want, right? For me to end my pain and just die. Either way I'm not strong enough to keep holding on like this, not with the fear and the memories and the agony. Yeah," she slurred, drifting off to sleep. "I should just stop feeling - maybe then I can keep... going." She fell fast asleep, unaware Cinder was standing in the open doorway to her room, eyes shining with with sick merriment.


	9. One Hangover And Many More To Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy the lull while you can. I have many twists and turns to arrive shortly 😊 I'm talkin' to you, @Milk_Yeah

Blake woke up the next morning with a pounding head and many regrets. Why must everything end with booze? Seriously, Blake wants to know when exactly that became a habit. What happened to tea and a good book, what happened to a set _bedtime_? She groaned, this day was not at all starting as well as she had hoped it would. As she fumbled to get her clothes off, she noticed a note on her kitchen island. Last time Blake found a note she almost murdered someone, wonder what'll happen when she reads this one. It read:

"Blake, I hope this helps" with an address printed on it. There was no signature but the note smelled of a certain perfume, leaving Blake to wonder why Cinder was recommending her to a place and what the woman was referring to. Blake didn't need any help, not right at this moment anyway. God knows what Blake told Cinder while drunk out of her wits, Blake was almost nervous at the thought, but then shrugged it off. There was nothing she could tell Cinder that would be harmful. Nothing at all. Blake knew she was sparkling clean when it came to her past and her decisions, but she liked to think that, generally, she made the right choice. Anyways, her past drama is nothing Mercury would be interested in.

She strolled unsteadily into the bathroom and turned on the hot water, waiting for it to warm up before hopping into the shower. The hot water was calming as it streamed down her tense muscles and flowed through her hair. It sobered her up somewhat and she began to wash up with a bar of soap. As she lathered it all down her front and over her legs, she had this thought. What if Mercury wasn't actually open to Blake and was only pretending? What if he wanted to use the Bridge on her?

Blake shooed the thought away with an annoyed shake of the head, there was no reason to speculate about such things. Take one step and one bridge at a time. No pun intended.

...

She didn't feel like caring about her appearance, so Blake jumped into some ripped jeans and a sweatshirt. She went to her left, towards the bar. She had no intention of drinking, but the bar also served breakfast and she wanted some of their amazing waffles When she arrived she wasn't really surprised to see Cinder speaking with the bartender, ordering food. When the woman saw Blake she added a waffle plate to her order. "Hey," Blake said, sliding into the seat next to Cinder.

"Hangover?"

"Yep." Blake popped the 'p'.

Cinder smiled understandingly. "How'd you sleep?"

"Good, I had a dream that dogs were chasing me through the streets of Vale, but other than that, good."

Cinder's laugh was melodic and menacing at the same time. "Sounds interesting."

"I think 'terrifying' is the word you are looking for." They both laughed.

Blake shot the man who just sat next to her a glance, a boner clearly showing through his sweatpants. She looked at her hands, trying to hide her welling disgust. It got harder when he proceeded to stare, eyes taking in her figure. She kept looking at her hands, fiddling her thumbs. He leaned closer, stinking breath reaching Blake's nose. She almost gagged, what did this man eat? Dog shit? "Hey, baby," he said in a slow drawl. "How about you come to my room and lemme fuck that frown off your face, huh?" It was all Blake could do to not punch him. She turned her head and looked him in the eye. "No."

He went batshit. "What the fuck do you mean 'no', whore?! You're nothing without a guy like me, nothing!"

Blake was about to say something witty and insulting in a generally neutral voice when Cinder cut in. "I disagree, in fact, I think it is just the opposite. You are nothing without her or any other woman like her to validate you and make you feel powerful. Fuck off."

The shades of red his face turned was unbelievable. Honestly, who knew there were that many shades of red? Blake turned to look at Cinder, eyes narrowing. "I don't believe that."

"Don't believe what?"

"That he is nothing. I believe he is misguided and probably drunk, but not nothing. Nobody is nothing."

Cinder shook her head, "that's some optimism you got there."

"Maybe, but it's gotten me this far, hasn't it?"

The older woman smiled, "it has."

They were silent for a few minutes, their food is placed in front of them in that time. "Why did you do that anyway?" Blake asked, stirring cream into her coffee.

"Do what?"

"Stand up for me."

Cinder turned so that she was facing Blake fully. "Why would I not?"

"You don't know me."

"I'd like to."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Blake frowned, taking a bite of her waffles and looking to her side at Cinder. "I have nothing, no money, no influence, no life. What I do have is PTSD, more mental issues, a growing problem with alcohol, and a murderous ex who I can't seem to stop trying to save. If anybody is closer to nothing, it is me. The impact on people that I have had is so little you could take me away and nothing would change. Someone else would have come into Yang's life, probably been better for her. Mom and dad would have had some other child who wouldn't have broken their best friend's heart or run away. Nothing would change, except for the better."

Cinder sighed. "You obviously don't see what I do."

"And what is that?"

"Everything, anything. You are so many things I've lost count. Beautiful, strong, morally set, brave. I don't have to be in love with you to appreciate you, to admire you."

The cat faunus was stunned and she didn't bother hiding it. The silence stretched on and on. It was probably only a minute or two, but it felt like it was much longer than that. Blake grabbed her coffee and took a sip. It was rich from the cream and bitter. "I'm none of those things." Blake finally said, sounding more disgruntled than disbelieving.

Cinder noticed and laughed. "Not big on taking compliments, I see."

The conversation died down, comfortably this time and they both went back to their food. Half an hour later they finished eating, it was ten o'clock.

"Mercury wanted me to notify you that lunch is at one-thirty."

"Okay, thank you."

"Of course."

Blake walked away, going around a bend to the billiards room. People were already playing. She waited until someone lost then asked to join in, her offer was accepted. Blake found that whilst playing games like pool and the like, men opened up. They exposed themselves. They make it easy to read them, despite their best efforts. Blake has actually gotten quite good, lining up the pool cue with the ball and mapping out her shot. A simple pumping of her arm later and either the ball she desired would be in a hole or not. Each shot taught her more about the game and its players, even a bit about physics.

She played three games with some guy and his girlfriend, Greg and Molly. Molly was a nerd and Greg was a soft jock; they were a cute couple.

Blake went to her room and checked the time, twelve-fifteen. Enough time to get changed and do whatever else. Almost too much time.

The letter sitting on her desk mocked her, rubbing in her face how she failed and no matter how long she waited to tell Ruby reality stayed the same. Oh, what was stopping her from lying? It's not like Ruby would be able to tell or even call her out on it. She isn't there, Blake is. Only Blake. For six months Blake was the only one there, the only one who was actively trying to save Yang. Did Ruby really deserve the truth? She was just some stupid, naive girl who thought if she wished hard enough everything would be alright. Nothing was alright anymore, Blake came to terms with this long ago. Maybe Ruby did too, and this is what would allow her too? A maybe is never anything to go off of. Either way, Blake was sure of one thing; beer was _never_ this complicated.

...

She wasn't that drunk when she went into the meeting, not in her opinion at least. But how else can one explain why she agreed to do what she agreed to do; to use the Bridge on someone.


	10. Repression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: CHEATING, TONS OF TALK OF ALCOHOL.
> 
> Milk_Yeah, this chapter is going to piss you off 💕

Blake flinched at the noise her mug made when it hit the counter, the sound adding an edge to her alcohol-induced headache. She considered for a moment just how she got into this position. It all started with one beer and ended with five, unreasonable taking into account the activity she had hoped to accomplish. She turned on the faucet and let her mug fill with tap water, turning towards the microwave and placing it inside. She set it for 90 seconds and buried her head in her hands. You ever get the feeling like even though nothing is going your way, you aren't allowed to complain because "others have it worse"? Blake was having that feeling, and it sucked dirty balls.

The cat Faunus had a habit of overthinking things, trying to look at them from every angle and only ending up confusing herself and sometimes even others. Right now she was overthinking the note Cinder left for her earlier that morning with the address. There were too many variables and too little information for comfort; should she go, should she not? Then, of course, there was the matter of a hangover and the need to find a victim for the Bridge.

Blake couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that she had to do the same thing to someone else that Junior did to Yang. It was almost unthinkable and horrifying. Blake didn't try to come to terms with it, much less attempt to consider it an option. And yet, it struck that it was an unavoidable reality if she ever wanted to get Yang back. How far would she go for this one goal? How important was Yang to her? Would she honestly sell her soul to the bloodlust and darkness living within her? These thoughts were overwhelming and Blake was relieved to hear the soft beeping of the microwave urging her to remove her mug. She did so and grabbed a peppermint tea bag, dropping it in alongside the contents of one small pink sugar packet. She stirred her tea and stared out the window, Molly and Greg were walking out to their car out front. They had mentioned going out for a special dinner that night to celebrate their anniversary. What was the restaurant again? _Rice and Dumplings_. Yes, that was it. Molly said dumplings were Greg's favorite meal.

Could she really be contemplating doing this atrocity to one of them? They didn't deserve it, but then, neither did Yang. Choices need to be made and Blake wished she wasn't the one who had to make them.

She looked back at the note and sighed, what the hell could go wrong? Honestly, a lot of things; which was precisely why it was what she needed right then. Blake decided that no matter what she would not go to this mysterious address that day, there were too many things on her mind. She went and sat at the small dining room table, setting her mug down and pulling her notebook and pencil towards her. At the top of the first page she wrote 'Bridge victim notes'. Under it she wrote 'Molly' with a colon.

She spent the next half-hour scrawling notes on the page but in the end, she figured, all of that was pointless without knowing more about the Bridge. Furthermore, when she does figure out how it works, all of those notes might be pointless. She needs to talk to Mercury and get that favor a bit early.

...

A hour later Blake was sitting on a bench outside of the building

, using the fresh air to relax. The door opened and out came Mercury, clad in sweatpants and an exercise shirt. "Well hello there," he said, smiling in surprise at the sight of her. "What are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same." She quipped back, crossing her right leg over her left.

"I see, you could, but the answer to that is pretty boring." He sat next to her and leaned back, trying to peek at her notebook. She openly showed it to him, letting him flip through the three pages she wrote on. "This is pretty good," he complimented her. His brow furrowed at the last thing she wrote. ""She is into guys who like dumplings"?"

Blake groaned, "I ran out of things to write!"

Mercury laughed lightly, handing the notebook back to her. "Research her more."

"It would help if I knew how the Bridge worked."

"You don't need to know that, not yet."

"But~"

"You don't, trust me." He stood and began to jog, going down a trail that leads into the nearby woods.

"Well that's helpful," Blake muttered, turning back to her notebook. There was nothing else she could possibly write so she turned of few of the pages over to a blank one near the back. Her hand swiftly drew shapes and lines, following a pattern only she can see. It was like solving a puzzle, putting the pieces together one-by-one. Line after line, detail after detail. Keen eyes scanning and revising, knowing by heart where each mark and scratch goes. She looked at her work and smiled bitterly; it was Yang kneeling, "proposing" to Blake, asking for her to be the blonde's girlfriend. That moment was the sweetest in recent memory, even if it wasn't recent.

"If only I could forget all about her..." Blake thought, staring almost fondly at the picture. "If only I could forget her smile and the way she warms me." They were horrid, these thoughts. They brought a warmth to her heart and a wetness to her eyes that Blake had been hoping she'd left far behind. She loved Yang, so fucking much it hurt. But she was angry at her too, an anger that felt as if it would never burn out. She was injured in her mind first by Junior, in her heart by Yang, who'll hurt her soul? Who'll break her body?

Blake didn't cry, she stood and walked back inside, crossing over the wooden floorboards and colorful rugs to her room. Once in the middle of her room, she stripped - ripping the hair-tie out of her hair and kicked off her socks and underwear, undoing her bra. The cold air made goose bumps cover her flesh as she strode over to the couch and and splayed herself out on it. The moment held a certain freedom to it and she relished it. The minutes went by, she didn't stir. Blake eyes were blank as they gazed at the ceiling, unblinking. Her thoughts took her someplace far, far away - to Yang. To Menagerie, to Vale. As these places flicked through her head and reminded her of all she left behind, all she wanted again, Blake watched. Every last one of the memories held emotion, they were practically steeped with it. One-by-one, Blake remembered; and forgot. She forgot those emotions, forgot the pain, forgot the love. It was still there all right, but now it was being pushed down. She forced herself to ignore any and all emotion, instead focusing on what went wrong and how to use what happened to Yang as reference for what she needs to do to Molly. At first, the memories made her cry still, but the more she removed that pain through force and replaced it with apathy, the less she cried; the more she learned.

...

When Molly and Greg got back, Blake was waiting. Clothed in casual dress, she went down the stairs and to the bar, where they usually pass by to get to their room on the ground floor. Blake ordered a cold cider, looking the side to catch Molly's eye as she passed. Blake waved for her to come over. She and Greg obliged. "How was the date?" The cat faunus asked cheerily once they got within earshot.

"Good! The dumplings were epic!" Greg grinned.

Molly nodded her head and smiled wide, clinging to his arm. "And the view was amazing, there was a waterfall right outside our window!"

"There was!" The man agreed excitedly, eyes shining with child-like wonder.

Blake chuckled, taking a swig of her cider. Molly was in a form-fitting, yellow-flowered dress that barely covered her whole thigh with light pearl earrings, yellow high-heels, and makeup that accentuated her green eyes. Greg was in a bright green t-shirt with a white leather jacket thrown over it and some tight pants, his sandals' soles were peeling off the bottoms of them. Blake was starting to feel gothic in her grey v-neck, black hoodie, black ripped jeans, black combat boots, and choker. Admittedly this was a more darkly-influenced outfit, but she fit right in with all the other dark colors in the room. Greg and Molly, however, stood out like two annoyingly joyful sore thumbs.

They back into the billiards room and played a few games, Molly didn't want to play after the second, saying Blake and Greg were too competitive. Blake played three more games against him then let him break away to play with another buddy of his. She went and sat with Molly at a nearby table. "Having fun?"

"Yeah," the woman said wistfully. "He's just so amazing, y'know?"

"I do, I once had someone like that."

Molly looked at Blake curiously, "what happened?"

"Life. In the end, she left without saying goodbye. Broke my heart." Blake was surprised at how her voice didn't break, how tears didn't spring to her eyes at the mere thought of Yang.

"That's sad," Molly said mournfully, grabbing Blake's hand and squeezing it. "I'm sure if she had seen where you'd be today she would have stayed with you."

"Maybe," Blake murmured, rubbing the back of Molly's hand with her thumb. Even thought there were no tears, Blake knew a little self-repression wasn't going to fix everything. She needed to go deeper, farther, destroy it all. She needed to break herself. "Tell me," she asked Molly. "Does he satisfy you?" Moments later they're scrambling to go up the stairs and down the hallway. When Blake opens the door and shuts it, she shoves Molly against, kissing down her pale neck and sucking lightly. Molly moaned, fingers tangled in Blake's hair. Blake threw off her jacket and ripped off her shirt, tackling Molly again with rough kisses and wandering hands. Molly managed to unzip the back of her dress while kissing the faunus and Blake helped her pull it off.

The next hour was well spent, each touch like a knife and electricity to Blake. The knife was in her heart and cutting through her strict rule about no cheating or cheating with someone, the electricity was in the way her body buzzed and begged for more. Blake broke herself ruining Molly, she held back tears of pain while she made Molly cry out at every orgasm. At the end of it all Molly left, blushing. Blake lay in bed, panting. She felt around the new void left inside her. It felt just as expected; empty.

"That was easy." Blake said in a voice not unlike her own, directed to do so by a mind far from what it used to be, and a heart that no longer exists except in a box locked tight somewhere. "Too easy."

...

Cinder watched the feed from behind Mercury, who seemed to be enjoying himself. You think he was pleased when he knew Cinder was even able to hide a camera in Blake's room, just imagine how happy he was when he saw Blake rough-fuck Molly. Right now the woman was smoking by the window and drinking her third beer, still butt naked. Cinder was a little annoyed, if she'd known Blake spent this much time with no clothing, she would have forgone the camera. Why the hell did she choose the camera with audio, anyways? What purpose did audio serve? The woman feared she would hear those motherfucking high-pitched screams in her sleep. "She's not doing anything." She commented, wondering what they were even doing anymore.

"That could change at any second, we wait until she falls asleep."

"And if she wakes up in the middle of the night?"

"My men will be watching, they'll alert me."

Cinder didn't like the sound of that but she held her tongue. As long as she got what she wanted, Cinder was willing to do anything.


	11. Bad Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: TALK OF SUICIDE, MILD TRANSPHOBIA, SHOUTING
> 
> Milk_Yeah I finally updated! I know you've been worried but I promise I'm okay and I hope you enjoy :)

Adrian smirked, reading the note his friend, Chad, passed to him in class discreetly. 'Frankie has a pussy' it read in red marker and the ram Faunus glanced over his shoulder to look at Frankie, a smaller boy who sticks to himself and his few friends. 'Oh?' he wrote back, slipping it to Chad. 'Is that all you have to say?' Adrian shook his head, Chad could be a bit dim sometimes. 'Yeah.'

After a few minutes, Chad passed him another note. 'Only girls have pussies', this time a dick was drawn with an arrow pointing to it saying that only boys have penises. 'Don't be transphobic, Chad' Adrian slipped to him, crossing out his drawing. Chad scoffed and shrugged, balling the note up into a ball and tossing it at the teacher's head when she wasn't looking. Adrian passed the time with a mixture of daydreaming and doodling in his notebook. He couldn't read what she wrote on the board and she's always rambling on about nothing in particular, you'd have to be very patient to wait for those few pertinent pieces of information.

As time hauled itself on, his mind wandered to Yang. The last time he saw her, she was relentless in her brokenness. Unwilling, possibly unable to heal from the scars layered onto her by Junior. Her eyes held a barbaric, cutting edge within their depths. Maybe it was those eyes that made the biggest mark on Adrian, on his mind and his view of Yang. They used to be lilac, kind, gentle, benign. But those days were long gone, it was about time for Adrian to come to terms with this. His nightmares must come to an end on their own, right? How long must his mind insist on reminding him of the day hell broke loose? It will end eventually - and when it does Adrian will not miss it.

He and his peers stampeded out of the school and piled into school buses and the cars of their parents. He was taking the bus today and he rolled his eyes at the antics of his fellow riders as he took his seat in the front. It wasn't that he thought himself above them, but mostly that he thought their actions to be below even the youngest and dumbest.

Adrian settled back in preparation for the fifteen-minute ride up ahead. He popped his earplugs in and started playing some music on his scroll, well, the scroll he is only allowed to use when he isn't with Ruby, Weiss, or one of those baby sitters they pay to watch him. He let the music guide him through his thoughts, taking him to old memories and dragging him through old wounds. More reminders of Yang's old loving, considerate demeanor. She used to play with him for hours, drawing spaceships and Grimm. She used to smile.

He got out at his stop and walked slowly down his suburban street until he reached Ruby and Weiss's house they bought together. He never found it within himself to call it 'home'. Ruby was already home as per usual and the door was unlocked when he pushed it open. "I'm home!" He shouted, ripping the earplugs out of his ears and tossing the scroll on the living room couch.

Ruby suddenly appeared, hands on hips. "So I got a call from your teacher today," she said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at him. "You wanna explain why you dropped out of that art competition at the last minute?"

"I just didn't wanna do it." He muttered, not meeting her gaze.

"Adrian..." Ruby sighed, squatting in front of him. "You seemed really excited about it - what happened?"

"I just changed my mind, okay?!" He yelled, stomping past her and running up the one flight of stairs to his room.

"Adrian!" Ruby called after him, sighing in resignation when she heard his door slam shut. She deliberated her options - go after him and risk making an already bad situation worse or leave him be and risk making an already bad situation worse. She chose to wait until Weiss gets home. What could happen? An already bad situation made worse?

Adrian threw himself face-first on his bed and groaned loudly. He felt around for his pillow and pulled his journal out from under it. Sitting up, he opened it to his last entry and began to read.

_"Today I snuck an old swiss army knife into my room. It's in my underwear drawer. I want to use it. Not on dumb things like on trees but... on me. Sometimes I wonder if that would be better than what I've been through already. Maybe it would, I dunno. I just want the pain and the bad dreams to go away."_

Adrian sniffed and turned the page. He felt around under his pillow again, this time pulling out a Grimm shaped pen. He glared at the page for half a second before starting to scratch his thoughts down.

_"Ruby wants me to do the stupid art contest. I don't want to, not anymore. My drawing is dumb and it doesn't even look good. I can't get the purple of her eyes right. Or the yellow of her hair. There is no point. I wonder if I'd be able to get blood red. At least then it would look like her the way she is now."_

He tossed his journal to the side, deciding he had nothing more to write. Life is pointless - in his opinion at least. Why exist when so many terrible things happen daily? Why bother trying to be this good person when everyone is going to die anyway, including you. Life is pretty much an unsolvable mess; useless to try and figure out. Adrian was going to live until he didn't, that was that. He contemplated this a bit more, coming to a few more conclusions about the uselessness of life and living before he went to his small desk and grabbed a few markers to begin drawing on the open art notebook sitting there. He used a nearby pencil to sketch out some outlines and give himself a general idea of what this picture was going to be. Then he used his black marker to bolden the lines he wanted to keep and make everything a bit clearer. Next came coloring it in, and that he did; oh so carefully drawing the marker across the page and adding life to his vision. Finally, it was complete.

It was a rapier, Weiss's rapier. The old item is more of an heirloom than a weapon but Weiss says it could still kill a Grimm if it ever had to face one again. Adrian added a few details, artistic license. Now there was blood dripping down the long blade and the dust in its revolving chambers glowed with power. The leather wrapped about its handle was a deep orange just as Weiss said it once was before time and use wore away the color and left the material a brownish grey. It looked alive with power and worn with war all at the same time. He used his finer tipped markers to add yet more detail until he was satisfied with the outcome.

He heard a car door slam and knew Weiss was home from work, which surely meant he was about to receive a talking to if it meant anything at all. He listened and waited for the sound of her entering the house and then for the sound of Ruby excitedly welcoming her girlfriend home. Both happened in quick succession and he smiled, it was always heart warming to see Ruby's jubilation and Weiss's barely restrained adoration. They loved each other, as Adrian could once say of him and Yang; even if he no longer could.

Just as suspected, Ruby and Weiss came up the stairs a couple of minutes later, knocking on his door. "Come in," he called, a hint of annoyance in his tone. He knew what was coming, the same old lecture and the same old thinly veiled worry.

"Hey, buddy," Weiss said as she entered, smiling at him. "How was your day?"

"Good I guess."

"Drawing again?"

"Yeah," he held up the notebook for her to see.

She stepped closer and grinned, "that's amazing! Glad to see your art teacher is doing one thing right." She sent a wink his way and he giggled, setting the notebook back down. "But seriously, buddy, how was your day? Your teacher called me at work and said some kids were being kinda mean to you on the playground?"

"It was nothing, it's not like they hurt me or anything."

"What did they say to you?" The white-haired woman took a seat on the edge of his bed.

"Just some dumb stuff about how I'm probably gay 'cause all of my parents have been gay so far."

Weiss made a face and shook her head, "at least you know it's dumb." She muttered, allowing herself to smile a bit when Adrian giggled again. "What did you say back?"

"That if I was gay I wouldn't date them 'cause they're ugly."

Weiss's eyes went wide before she burst into a fit of laughter, "I'm allowing it this once!" She gasped through bouts of laughing. "But if you insult someone again, you'll get grounded, understood?" Adrian nodded dutifully and Weiss chuckled again, imagining her small ram faunus throwing a comeback like that at some bullies. "Dinner will be ready in a bit, okay?"

"Okay," Adrian fidgeted slightly, "are you not going to ask me about the art contest?"

"No," Weiss shook her head, "if you don't want to do it, I'm not going to make you. I would like you too, but I won't make you." Her ice blue eyes were soft and caring, loving; but Adrian couldn't help but note that they held less love than Yang's. Weiss left the room and Adrian sat alone, thinking about nothing in particular. Did Weiss know the sheer amount of love that Yang's eyes used to hold? Did she know that is was so much, it was pointless to even try and reach it? If so, why does she still try? What keeps her moving forward, moving towards any one goal if there will always be someone who is better at it than her? Or maybe it is just Adrian who will always be overshadowed; because he is a faunus and she is a human. There was no one better than Yang, even these other humans can't reach her level of greatness. But neither can faunus, Ilia has tried - and failed. Maybe Yang is just so special and so unique and that is why she is the only who was able to love Adrian _that_ much; care for him _that_ much. But everyone has their downfalls, right? That's why Yang left, because she was too weak to fight whatever in the world Junior did to her. Loving, caring, weak. Yes, that must be Yang, because why else would she have left?

Adrian was thirsty so he went to his door and opened it, standing still on the landing. He could get a drink of water from the bathroom down the hall, or he could go downstairs and get some from the kitchen. He heard laughter, so he chose the kitchen, why not? He descended the stairs in time to hear the laughter fade away and Ruby's voice echo out in its place. _"Dear, Ruby and Weiss, I'm sorry for not writing for so long, it's been hard to find the words. If you're drinking something, you might want to get something stronger, I know I am. In every letter you send, you ask about Yang, how she is, what she is doing, when she'll return home. The answer I have is not good, but it answers all of your questions at once so here we go: Yang is not coming back. Not anytime soon, maybe not ever. Junior used a machine on her that shattered her soul and left her Semblance on overdrive,"_ Ruby's voice broke and she took a minute to breathe. _"The last time I saw her, she was broken, quiet and hidden. That night she wrote me a note, saying that right then, her last shred of humanity was in control and that is why she was running away; she didn't want to hurt me and she didn't want me chasing after her because she knew I would be faced with a demon. She's gone, but I'm still here, trying to follow a lead about that machine I told you about. I want to reverse engineer it somehow to help her, I may not succeed, but I'll keep trying until it is absolutely clear that her condition can't be helped. I hope Adrian is doing well-"_ Adrian burst into the room, cutting off Ruby.

"So that's what Miss Belladonna has been doing?! Trying to help Yang?!" He shouted, small hands balled into fists as he shook with anger and confusion. "You told me that she went back to her childhood home to 'recuperate'!"

Weiss stood and held her hands out to him, placatingly, "buddy-"

"No! You lied to me!"

Ruby was full-on sobbing where she was sitting at the dining room table, head buried in hands. Weiss looked back at her and seemed torn between which of the two to comfort and calm down.

"It doesn't even matter," Adrian growled, walking away. "if she's not coming back."


	12. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: BLOOD, VIOLENCE, PTSD, FLASHBACKS, NIGHTMARES
> 
> Milk_Yeah, the chapter you advised me to write is here! Hope you like it :)

Adrian stared blankly at his bedroom door, he was sitting on his bed, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. He was feeling so much, and yet at the same time he somehow felt as if he was empty and unfeeling. Overwhelmed with the noise of his tears and the silence of his mind. So blank, why is it so blank?! Why can't he bring himself to even acknowledge the tears? Why is he doomed to sit there, motionless? The notion that all this made him worthless briefly flashed across his internal radar. He paid it no attention, but he couldn't quite get it out of his head after that.

Weiss tried to follow him into his room but he propped his desk chair under the doorknob so that she was incapable of getting in. He was alone and kinda scared. What do most people do in these situations? What do normal people do when they find out their mother, for all intents and purposes, has gone crazy and is never coming back, their new parents-ish have been lying to them about what their almost other-mother was doing, and they have rendered their kinda parents from entering their room? Do they scream, cry, break things? Do they just ignore it all and move on with their life? What the hell do they do, because it can't be what Adrian is doing, can it? They can't possibly feel this empty when all that is going on. Adrian isn't normal; so why would he do what normal people do? This is just him, he's the only one.

Adrian didn't know how long he was sitting there before the police showed up and managed to open the door, allowing in a very worried Weiss and Ruby. They ran to him and wrapped him in a huge hug, "I'm so sorry, buddy, we should never have lied to you...! We were just worried that, with everything that was going on, it was easier to lie and take a burden off your mind rather than telling you Blake was running gods know where to in order to bring your mother back. We're sorry."

Adrian hugged them back, trying desperately to ignore the gnawing void inside his chest. "It's fine, I'm sorry for getting so mad." It wasn't fine, but he wasn't going to tell them that. What was the point?

"I love you," Ruby whispered, pulling him closer.

"We both do," Weiss smiled.

"I love you guys too."

...

Everything happened so fast, the police left, they ate dinner, talked about the letter again, and now Adrian was lying in his bed, staring around his darkened room. There were many shadows created by the small sources of light dotted about his room; they almost seemed to be morphing themselves into monsters with jaws open wide to consume him. He wished they would.

When he finally fell asleep he dreamt of red, so much red, expanding and covering his vision. It was like blood but that wasn't what it was - it was her eyes. Red and full of hatred like no other, an angry red. He sank into it, deeper and deeper until he could sink no further. His ears rung as the air around him vibrated with Junior's warped words; _"don't worry, kitty", "hold her down", "what a real man does"_. They sounded broken, distant, but they held just as much power and instilled just as much fear into the small child's body.

The red started swimming and swirling, and he was twisted around with the current. The red began to swirl and swirl until it was a whirlpool, it's center black and loud with Yang's screams. He was being pulled towards it, he tried swimming away but he couldn't. A knife swung out of the darkness - right in his path. He became frantic, thrashing and clumsily kicking at the redness around him - but it was no use. In a matter of seconds he was pulled into the knife and drawn into the blackness. He fell and fell and fell; then suddenly his body his something and he awoke with a start. His body was covered in sweat and he clutched at his chest where the knife had been in his dream.

He put his head in his hands and sobbed, body shaking. The tears dripped, hot and heavy from his hands to his bedspread. Why is he so freaking messed up?

When he stopped crying, for no reason other than he _couldn't_ cry anymore, he looked around him blearily. The shadows were still there, black and disturbing. He couldn't stop looking at them though, for one seemed to be moving. It was, it was moving! It grew and stepped out from the corner it originated it, it's form taking shape and becoming more detailed. It was Yang, but not. It wasn't actually her, it was a shadow that looked like her. The shadow Yang walked over to him and held out its hand, a knife forming in it's palm. He understood the meaning behind this gesture perfectly, having wanted to cut into his skin for some time now, but something stopped him from grasping it. This wasn't just a random occurrence, it couldn't be. No, this was something special and if Adrian had to guess, he'd say it was his Semblance. Putting this theory to the test, he concentrated, envisioning Blake in his mind. And she formed, from her cat ears down to her (on casual days) signature sneakers.

Adrian smiled sadly at the tow shadows, "I wish..." he said, barely above a whisper. "That you never had to leave."

He laid back down, pulling his covers over himself. He fell asleep again, but this time, he dreamt of Yang's smile, and the comforting sound of Blake's soft singing.


	13. Planned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Milk_Yeah, ...still haven't gotten to chapter 42, but on the bright side, MAMAMOO inspired the last bit of this chapter so I could finally post it :) 
> 
> To the rest of y'all: The next chapter will be the end of this story arc and it will start right up with some triggering content. The triggering content will not end until the end of the chapter. I am giving you fair warning so that the next time I post, you will know what is in store for you. Please, if you are triggered by violence, public humiliation, torture, bondage, DO NOT read the next chapter. Thank you

It's time. Today is the day. The moment of truth. The next few hours are crucial for Blake, what with needing to lure Molly into a private room, preparing for what is to happen in that room and the urgent matter of what to do with Greg. Blake didn't like Greg; sure he is a nice guy, but he is failing miserably at protecting his girlfriend, not that he knows he needs to protect her from anything - but that is beside the point. Blake is tired, so damn tired. She's gotten barely any sleep, staying up all through the night tossing and turning, trying to find a way out of this. A way around using the Bridge on Molly.

Blake was feeling so many things at once, it was horrible. She wanted the feeling to go away, she was exhausted as it was and she did not need her emotions spiraling out of control. She sent the letter to Ruby and Weiss, finally. It was hard, but Blake felt good about it. It was the right choice and she knew it.

She still never found the chance to go to that address Cinder left for in that note. She was just so busy and because she didn't know what it was, it didn't make its way high on her priority list.

Blake was honestly surprised Greg hadn't guessed not only that Molly was cheating on him by now, but also that he hasn't figured out who with. Molly is bad at hiding it and her lying is shit. Love really does make you blind, doesn't it? Molly started this habit of wearing more - revealing clothing whenever she knew that she would run into Blake that day; it was amusing, she's like a hormonal teenager. The cat Faunus really did not want to think about how bad Greg was in bed to make Molly so desperate for a good orgasm and some attention. Which she really was. As previously stated, she is like a hormonal teenager and the way she drags Blake into whatever unoccupied room is closest for a quickie is concerning. Seriously, how bad can a guy be at sex? It really isn't that hard.

Any guilt Blake had over her little affair with her soon-to-be victim was shoved to the side to make room for more pressing matters. Such as, Blake was not confident that she could get Molly alone. Yes, the girl was eager for any time spent alone with Blake, but she and Greg were supposed to leave after lunch to go on a hike. Which was precisely when Blake needed to seduce the woman the most. She wondered internally if she could convince Molly to call off the hike.

She left her room where she had been brooding and strolled down to the bar. Not surprisingly, Cinder was waiting for her. That was a habit the older woman developed recently, not that Blake was complaining. She enjoyed the company.

"Hey, love." She cooed confidently, sliding into the stool next to the gangster.

"Someone woke up on the right side of the bed this morning." Cinder observed with a smile.

"Let's just say I've found a solution to all my problems." Blake hoped at least, there was no guaranteeing that her plan would work. Either way, her chipper mood was more faked than anything. She was way too tired to be hopeful about her plan.

"You have?" Cinder quirked a disbelieving eyebrow at her companion. "Please, do tell."

"I can't," Blake laughed. "It is a secret."

"Aw, but now I am curious." She pouted, fiery eyes twinkling.

"Too bad." The bartender already knew what she wanted and placed her usual in front of her with a nod and a soft 'good morning'. Blake gave him a smile before digging in.

"Too bad what?" A familiar high-pitched voice asked. It was Molly. Blake swiveled around in her seat to give the girl a cocky smirk.

"Nothing, don't worry about it. You look gorgeous." Blake deflected smoothly, standing and making a show of swaying her hips as she walked over to Molly. The girl's eyes followed her movements with unbridled lust. Greg is dumb. Molly really did look great, however, in a form-fitting green low v-neck shirt that showed off her breasts on two fronts, black skinny jeans with rips at the knees, black sandals, and some make-up that brought out the color of her eyes.

Since her boyfriend wasn't around, Molly wasted no time in pulling Blake into a kiss. "Thanks," she whispered once they parted. "You look spectacular though."

Blake figured by now her outfit was a wise one, all things considered. It wasn't revealing, or form-fitting, in fact, the outfit covered every last one of Blake's many assets. It was a baggy black t-shirt with a purple hoodie thrown haphazardly over it, acid-washed jeans that were ripped so much you could see most of Blake's shins, black converse, and a snapback - which she was wearing backwards - with the logo of some rock band on the front. It was chosen by Cinder the previous night, why that outfit in particular was a mystery to Blake. She looked good, even if she was dying to get out of the ripped pants so that she could put on a pair that would actually keep her legs warm.

"I'm flattered - sit with me?"

Molly accepted the offer with a nod and Blake took her previous chair, but this time with Molly sitting to her right as well as Cinder to her left. "Have you had breakfast?"

"No, Greg hasn't even woke up yet."

"Okay, order whatever you want, it is on me." Blake may not have much money - but this was worth it; for all the wrong reasons.

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Molly scanned the menu written on a blackboard above the bar, her nose wrinkling in concentration. Cinder also watched, but much more openly, leaning forward to gaze at Molly. "What the hell are you doing?" Blake asked with a chuckle.

"Trying to figure out what makes her special; you never bought me breakfast."

Blake laughed, almost choking on the water she had been drinking. "Gay, not rich."

Molly giggled, turning to look at the two of them. "Jealous?"

Blake was more than a little taken aback by the question, but taking it into stride, she raised her eyebrows at Cinder. "Do tell."

"Who wouldn't be," Cinder quipped with a wink. "Molly is a lucky girl."

Blake almost laughed again at the irony, a lucky girl indeed. "Yes I am," the girl in question purred, nuzzling her face into the crook of Blake's neck. This was going to be a long day.

"Hey, Molly?" Blake began, directing the conversation to a more serious matter. "You and Greg still going on that hike later?'

The woman shifted uncomfortably in her chair, "actually, no. Greg and I got into an argument last night and he said he would just go on the hike by himself."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Wanna talk about it?"

"I dunno, he mentioned marriage and I just - I didn't respond well. It's not that I don't love him, I do! But I don't think I'm ready for that step yet, not for a while."

"You can say that again," Cinder muttered with a smirk, eyeing the pair with amusement.

Molly blushed, looking away. "I should go check on him actually, I'll be back." She stood and walked away.

Blake shrugged and went back to eating, well aware that Cinder was waiting for an update. Blake didn't want to give one, was there really a point? Today was the day, that was all anyone needed to know. Well, they might want to know more, considering there was no way that night was going to go as they planned. As Blake planned over the past few nights? Yes, it had to.

"Well?" Cinder prompted, getting impatient.

"You heard her, she'll be here when the time comes."

"And you'll be able to convince her to come with you?'

"Yes, that I can guarantee."

"Okay," Cinder nodded.

A slow grin spread across Blake's face as she thought back to the previous conversation. "You really jealous?"

The older woman chuckled lowly, shaking her head. "As I said before, who wouldn't be?"

...

Cinder stared at the screen, watching as Blake opened a case. She couldn't see what was inside, but Cinder could guess. "Oh, Blake," the woman sighed. "You have too much heart for your own good. Though I can't complain, that'll make it all the more sweet when Yang Xiao Long rips you to shreds under my command. You won't even fight back, will you? It was your own fault for falling in love with that bitch."


End file.
